


Never Easy

by beachtowel



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dissociation, M/M, Physical Contact, Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing, motor accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachtowel/pseuds/beachtowel
Summary: It's always easy to fall into old destructive habits. Asking for help through them? Not so much.





	Never Easy

It was a stupid move. He should've remembered that the edge of the drawbridge had rubber plates on it, and that they _bend._  He was stupid for forgetting that.

Actually, he was stupid for having the idea in the first place. He wasn't some 16 year old; he was a grown man making stupid mistakes.

No, _decisions._ _He was a grown man making stupid decisions._

Jason made sure to erase the bridge’s security footage and left an I.O.U. signed by batman in the empty toll booth for the boom gate he crashed into. After that, he walked his wrecked motorcycle to the nearest mechanic shop with a tow truck. He considered calling for one of their own, but he didn't want anyone commenting on what he already knew: he was stupid. He paid the old man in charge well to drop him off a couple blocks from his place.

Jason felt lucky that the gravity lock still worked on his crumbled bike. He stopped by the sandwich shop on his way home and after convincing the manager that he wouldn't cause trouble in her restaurant, he went on to use the bathroom. After a while, he came back out looking better with a layer of fresh makeup on and ordered a tuna sandwich. He sat near the window to watch over his bike; there were crazy street kids out there that would try to steal anything from anyone, after all.

He controlled his breathing and relaxed his sore muscles as he ate. He let his eyes drift casually and his body moved with the motions. He didn't think about anything in particular or else his brain would take immediately him back to a single word: _stupid_.

He watched the gloomy clouds roll over the street and tasted the saltiness of the fries. When a call came in, he silenced it. He knew he had plans for the afternoon with Roy, but body slamming into a concrete bridge and ruining his favorite and most invested bike took some of the day’s energy away. He continued eating at his pace, ordering a second glass of water, all the while ignoring his spazzing muscles.

When he looked down at his phone again, there was another missed call, as well as a couple texts.

Roy: Hey. Where ya at?

Dickhead: YO roy's looking for u. Did you need me to say anything in particular or just that ur getting a ‘which?

Jason didn't realize he was sitting there for two hours. That means he was late getting home about five hours after he said he was. And if Dick was able to break through his phone's firewall for his encrypted location, that means Roy had no problem with it.

Shit.

Jason ordered a turkey melt to go with a couple sides too. Jason sighed as he returned the missed call.

“Jason.” Jason heard the hidden question in the cool undertones of Roy's casual voice. “Hey, where are you?”

“Hey love,” Jason spoke into his phone softly, careful to keep the phone from touching his scratched face. “I'm sorry, I'm really late, I know. I left my phone at this restaurant here,” _on the table, where I sat, ignoring you,_ Jason’s truthful guilt corrected. “I didn't have a chance to cook dinner, but I got you a sandwich from this place. Is that okay?”

A silent moment passed as Jason dropped a crisp fifty and mouthed a thank you to the cashier that handed him his food.

“...Yeah, that's fine. Don't worry about that, Jay,” Roy said. “But you're okay? You're on your way?”

“Of course, babe,” Jason said with his cocky ease, hanging the food on his bike handle as he started to push it home. “I'm like a block away I'll be there soon.”

-

Jason stashed the motorcycle at the very edge of the garage with a sheet over it. As he made his way up to their door, Jason stretched his neck out, willing visible bruises to go unnoticed.

He found Roy on the couch with a laptop in his lap, glasses on his nose, and hair in a messy bun; a look Jason has mentally dubbed “Sexy professor on his day off.”

“Hey,” Roy said gently, looking up at Jason.

“Hey,” Jason responded, moving slowly towards his lover. “Sorry for being late, I got held up across the city in traffic.” Technically that was true, even if that was earlier in the morning than assumed, and not the reason why he was late at all. The guilt of lying to his lover came in swift, but the shame of his crash quickly drowned that out, so Jason pushed all emotional reactions aside altogether.

He crossed the room as cool as ever, not flinching at a single sprain or jolt like the professional pain taker he was. He placed the food on the table and a kiss on Roy's lips.

He moved towards their bedroom after taking off his overcoat in the process, making sure to angle his body in a way that Roy wouldn't see bruises.

“Okay, I'm going to shower real quick before we head out. I'm sorry babe, I was starving so I ate on the way. But I got you a tuna melt and some sweet potato fries, a salad, and egg rolls I think?”

“Okay,” he heard Roy call from the living room. “Thank you.”

Jason grabbed a towel and a dark set of clothes, in case he started bleeding, and made his way into the bathroom. Once inside he leaned against the door and sighed. His muscles were screaming at him for moving too fast.

He turned the shower onto hot and slowly stripped. It took him a minute under the cruel hot water to remember he had to lock the door, which they never did. They've shared the apartment for over a year now and the thought of a restricted space between them seemed so absurd. But he didn't want Roy walking in to see his bruises. He would want to know what happened and worse, he'd want to stay in to take care of Jason, and that's the last thing Jason wanted.

It wasn't as if Roy hadn't taken care of him before, as if they haven't taken care of each other. But Jason wasn't hurt today because he was saving the world from evil robots or even because he was defending his honor at a bar brawl. No, it was because he made a conscious decision to try to drive over an old, out of service drawbridge with frozen jagged ice underneath it that had _Danger!_ practically written all over it, and he didn't stick the landing. He didn't deserve nor want a comforting hand.

He reached the doorknob and pressed the center until he heard the audible _click!_ He wondered if Roy heard it. _What if he wanted to join me in the shower but realized that I locked him out? Unwanted. Does Roy know I love him?_

Jason leaned his head against a wall, letting the water hit his back as his head thought of all the shitty ways he is bad for his lover.

-

“You ready?” Jason asked from the bathroom as he finished putting gel in his hair.

“Yeah,” Roy said from the door frame, watching his lover through the mirror. “Jason?”

They made eye contact.

“Yeah?” he paused.

“You sure you still want to go out tonight? We can stay in.”

_He knows._

“You don't wanna go out anymore? You've wanted to see this movie since the trailer came out.”

“I do, but we can watch it another day if you want. You seem a little… tired? Did you have a long day?”

_No, he didn't._

_“_ That's just my face babe, I'm always tired. But no, I'm good, I promise. I'm ready, are you?”

“Yeah,” Roy smiled at him. “I just need your backpack for the snacks.”

-

Two days later, Jason found his bloodied shirt from the crash washed and put away in the closet. Roy must've found it under the bed. Jason cursed himself for being too busy in the last couple of days to not take care of it himself, but he didn't know Roy was going to have one of his rare and impromptu cleaning days while he was away. All the cuddle-less sleep, all the “unnoticed” hug attempts he stayed away from were for nothing.

He went down to the garage and noticed the sheet over his motorcycle was moved, even if was just a fraction of an inch that the untrained eye would've missed.

_He knows._

Jason sighed.

-

Later that evening when Roy came back from picking up more scrap metal for his latest project, Jason spoke up.

“I crashed the bike,” he said, not looking up from the onions he was cutting.

“You crashed the bike?” Roy repeated, glancing up from peeling the potatoes.

“Yeah.”

Jason meant to give more, but he felt stupid, being discovered and even more so that Roy was pretending he didn't know.

Roy waited for a couple seconds. He put the peeler down as he focused on Jason.

“What do you mean you crashed? When? What happened?”

“You didn't know?” Jason didn't want to be the only one interrogated.

“No, I don't know what happened.”

“You saw the bike.” he looked at Roy in the eyes.

“I don't know what happened,” Roy looked directly back.

Jason looked back down, not picking up the knife again.

“I tried to jump the Merrillmond bridge down in South Gotham.” That was all Jason could give. Everything else was self explanatory.

“Hm,” Roy said, finally understanding. “But you're okay now?”

Jason nodded.

Roy started on a new potato.

-

“And you didn't want to tell me?” Roy asked after a couple of minutes. He was finishing up while Jason had moved on to cooking the onions and garlic in oil.

“I just did.” Jason knew he was acting childish.

“You didn't want to tell me before I found out?”

Jason shrugged.

Roy swallowed anger, then swallowed hurt. “You don't trust me?”

“I do,” Jason said unemotionally, hating himself.

“Then why didn't you tell me?”

Jason shrugged.

Roy stilled for a moment, wanting Jason to look at him, to explain that yes he did trust him and loved him and cherished him and that next time he was hurt he was going to call him immediately, Jason just kept stirring the pan.

“Okay,” Roy said. He put the peeler down, wiped his hands on his _Kiss the Cook_ apron, and went to the room.

Jason kept stirring as his mood darkened. He didn't have to explain anything to anyone. He’s gotten by his whole life with some scrapes and bruises and the ones he had now wouldn't even make it to the top 100. He didn't have to explain anything to no one. He's never did, and Roy wasn't any different.

That was a lie. Jason turned off the stove and went to look for Roy.

When he wasn't in the room, Jason figured the only other place was the bathroom, unless Roy went out the window. When he tried to open the door, he found it locked. So that's what that felt like in his own house.

Jason knocked.

“What.”

“Roy,” Jason hated everything about this. “Open up.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to see you.”

“ _I'm in the bathroom, Jason. I'm_ _busy_.” When Roy was upset, he didn't yell, he enunciated. Jason hated when Roy didn't speak in his natural accent.

“Roy,” Jason said. He felt desperate. And feeling desperate led to feeling angry. “Open the door, quit acting like a baby.”

And just like that Roy flew open the door and pushed by Jason.

“Fine, bathroom’s yours.”

Jason caught Roy's elbow.

“Roy,” Jason said, letting go when Roy gave his hand a glare. “Just talk to me, please. I'm sorry.”

“Jason, I tried talking to you, and _you didn't want to_.” Roy was committed to his glare and articulation. “I'm not going to pull your teeth so you can tell me about your day.” Roy walked to their closet and pulled out a backpack and began packing it with a couple of shirts, a couple of arrows,and underwear. “Obviously you don't care that I worry about you.”

A paralyzing nervousness shot through Jason when he realized Roy was planning on going somewhere else for the night.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“You'd rather I find your bike in shambles, your clothes stained with your blood with no explanation. And if I can't find you because you can't answer, _or won't answer_ ,” Roy challenged a denial. “And I really thought we moved past that. But no. That's just what I'd have to deal with forever, then, right?”

Roy was right. They used to fight a lot in the beginning of their relationships when Jason would come back from missions bloodied and hurt without a single explanation or desire to be helped. He would text Roy a simple “3 more days” while he recovered on his own in some musty motel because he didn’t want to be smothered by Roy’s care in a comfortable way. Jason had believed he would have never learned from his mistakes through that sort of coddling. It wasn’t until Roy found him at the hospital when the punches he was taken from invading aliens were particularly bad when he decided to give Roy’s love and care a chance on his pain.

But this time was different. Jason wasn’t hurt doing some greater good. He got hurt for being an idiot; an absolute moron. Worse than a child, an amateur. And he was embarrassed. He didn’t need Roy looking at him like the stupid loser he was.

“You’re wrong. Put your things down.”

“How is this different, Jason?” Roy asked, practically hissing.

“I crashed a bike!” Jason, unlike Roy, did yell when he was mad. “Why are you making it such a big deal?! I just didn't want to tell you, you're just going to walk out on me? Just like that?” The last question was supposed to sound a lot more angry than it did hurt.

“Don't twist this around. You're the one shutting me out. I'm just going to make it easier on you to ignore me,” Roy started walking to the door.

“I crashed a bike! I What more do you want from me!” Jason asked. He hated himself. He was practically begging Roy to stay with him. He wanted to tell Roy to fuck off so bad, like Jason has told so many others, but the spiteful words never left his tongue.

“You crashed a bike and what?” Roy said, shaking his head in disbelief that that was all of it. “You went and fucked some other guy after or what?” Roy swallowed at the end of that. “I mean, you tell me why it's such a big deal.”

Jason looked at him with a sour shock. “Are you serious, Roy?”

“Well, what is it then?” Roy spoke his thoughts. “Because we were doing good, right? At least, I thought. I thought we got over that part where you pushed me away whenever you got hurt and I didn't have to wait at home for days for a phone call, not knowing if it was going to be you or your mortician.”

“Nothing happened! God!” Jason was done with it. He just wanted to be equally mad alone in the room in as he also wanted to hold Roy and assure him that he loved him and was sorry for making him worry. “I just crashed my favorite bike because I jumped over the stupid ass drawn bridge and ate shit! I was embarrassed and I didn't want to talk about it! That's it! Now give me your bag!” Jason grabbed it from Roy, Roy not making an effort to hold on to it, and chucked it onto their bed.

“That's it,” Roy challenged Jason. “You were just embarrassed,” he asked without it coming out as a question.

“Yeah. I was,” Jason said with a half eye roll, trying to ignore the hot blood that stopped to boil under this cheeks.

“Jason, you're so fucking stupid!” Roy whisper-yelled. “Do you realize how much I care and worry about you, and you pull shit like this?”

The boiling blood was moving again and Jason exploded.

“You don't think I fucking know that? I know I'm a stupid idiot and I shouldn’t’ve made such a stupid mistake. I'm supposed to be a fucking professional but I'm still making dumbass mistakes like this! And I fucked myself up, and I fucked my bike up, and I don't know how to show you I love you if you think I'm just going to go out and cheat on you. I know I'm an idiot okay? I didn't want to tell you or anyone because I don't need to be told what I already know!”

“Stop, that's not what I meant. Sit down, please,” Roy said as Roy pulled him down on the edge of the sofa. He didn't realize he walked out of the room, with Roy behind him, and wad standing in the living room.

“You're not stupid. I'm sorry,” Roy said with an intense eye contact that only someone like Jason could hold. “I didn't mean to say that. I just meant that this is frustrating. And I don't mean that about you crashing your bike. That was an accident. Accidents happen to everyone. You know that.” Roy placed a gentle but gripping hand on Jason's thigh. “You _know_ that it happens to everyone. You're not that special, my love, that the universe is only out to get you.”

And just like that, a tear dropped from Jason's face, taking all his coldness with him. He looked away to brush his sign of vulnerability off with his shoulder.

Roy let Jason turn away. People were patient with him when they sat him down; he had no problem doing the same for the man he loved.

After a couple of minutes of silence that was bound to get awkward, Roy spoke again, Jason’s focus steady on the coffee table in front of him.

“This life we chose, my love, it’s traumatizing. And… I understand that not everything can or should be shared. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have a private thought. But you weren't on a case and you weren't on duty. You family of super detectives didn't know if you were on a case either and you weren't answering. All you were going to do that day was buy groceries in the morning and instead you came home battered emoty handed at some random hour in the night. So yeah, if it’s between you telling me you bumping your toe on the chair or never hearing from you again because-” Roy swallowed. Jason moved his hand over Roy’s, squeezing gentle love.

“Because of whatever,” Roy finished his sentence, “then yeah, I’d rather know every little bump and scratch. I love you, you know.” Jason looked up into Roy’s eyes, refusing to be intimidated by the intimacy, even though he was nervous as all hell he was going to ruin it like a fragile piece of glass. “And I want to be with you when you’re hurt. Even if you don’t want me helping you. Which, by the way,” Roy said, his voice changing a bit more sassy. “Isn’t really fair. I know you don’t want me to and I’ll respect it, but I want you to know that I want to help you when you’re hurt. That’s not like… a burden, you know. It makes me feel good when I am taking care of you. It’s just another way of loving you.”

Jason rolled his eyes at his casual Roy finding a way to put complicated emotions into simple words.

Jason cleared his throat.

“It’s not easy for me.”

“I know.”

“Feels… bad.”

“Yeah, I know. But, if you ever want to, in the future, please ask me for help if you need it.” Without much thought, Roy pulled Jason’s hand up for a quick kiss on the knuckles.

Jason watched Roy and made a funny face when Roy placed their hands back down. “What a sap,” was all Jason said with a small smile, but never moved his hand away.

“Fuck off,” Roy said with a laugh. “I’ll show you sappy,” he said as he moved towards Jason and moved to straddle Jason’s legs. He looked down at Jason and put Jason’s face in his hands. Roy tilted Jason's face to the left slowly, taking the opportunity to get a look at Jason's scratches on his cheek.

Jason took a shallow breath in when he realized what Roy was doing.

“Your makeup's really good. I didn't notice your face until yesterday." Roy commented. "Does it hurt?"

 _No,_  Jason thought instinctively. “Not anymore.”

Without warning, Roy pressed down on the healing area.

“Agh, you fucker,” Jason flinched from the slight jolted pain. He should've known better, Roy has always been the type of masochist to press on bruises to see how much it hurt.

Roy couldn't help but chuckle. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I thought it didn't hurt,” he teased his lover.

“The scratch doesn't but your bony fingers jamming into my cheek do.” Jason grabbed Roy by the wrists so he could keep his dangerous hands where Jason needed them to be.

“God,” Roy said with a heavy eye roll that he followed with a kiss on Jason's lips. “You're so dramatic.”

-

Jason responded a week later to Dick.

Jason: All good, mind your business.


End file.
